In my novel The Log House, my main character finds herself battling nature and the sinister creatures that lurk within in order to return home. While writing this novel, I have also been battling a monster.
I have suffered with depression since I was a teenager. It’s mostly manageable, sometimes not, and generally rears its ugly head when I’m under some stress.
Stress like crowdfunding my debut novel, for example.
Now don’t get me wrong, this is exciting stress. I am working towards my dream and it’s amazing, but the depression does make it slight more…difficult. For every slump in views on my novel page, every hurdle with editing, I have a disgusting voice at the back of my head whispering – “You will never make it.”
Sometimes I can ignore this voice. I know it’s trying to stop me, to make me give up, and I’m aware enough to stop this from happening. Other times I can’t ignore it. I hate to say that I give in, but I do. And it can take me a while to build up the courage to start again.
At one point in the novel, Penny finds herself close to giving up. She is faced with a choice. She can survive, semi-comfortably in a semi-safe location, or she can push through the difficult situation to achieve her goal. Pushing through might mean death, but it might also mean a chance to get everything she has ever wanted.
And that’s where I’m at currently, though maybe in not quite as dramatic a situation. When that little voice is telling me to give up, I could very well listen and never write again. I wouldn’t be living but I would get by. I would keep going. But if I push through, if I fight against that voice toward my goal I could get everything I’ve ever dreamed of. It will be difficult and may not come to anything, but the goal is worth the difficulties.
The voice will probably always be there.
But as long as I’m still fighting, I will keep writing.
Man that’s cheesy.